


Seven Minutes In Heaven

by Artemis2050



Series: Games Series [1]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Light Bondage, Party Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14971619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis2050/pseuds/Artemis2050
Summary: Summary?  Uh, well...games people play.





	Seven Minutes In Heaven

Seven Minutes In Heaven

“No way, you guys. I can’t.”

Logan paused by the rec-room door. He avoided the X-kiddies under normal circumstances, especially when they were in a group. Some of them were okay, though, if you got them by themselves.

One in particular. Like the one who’d just spoken, sounding anxious as all hell, which was what had gotten his attention in the first place.

“Sure you can, chica. No worries. Everyone stays dressed, and we all know to stay away from your skin. You play too.” 

“I don’t know, Jubes.” Marie still sounded uncertain.

“I t’ink you should play, chère.” Now the hairs rose on the back of Logan’s neck. Wasn’t that Cajun lowlife a little old to be playing party games with teenagers? “In fact, I t’ink you should go first.”

“Come on, Rogue. It’ll be fun.” That was Kitty. “You’ll see. You’ll like it.”

“What do I have to do?” He could hear the reluctance in her voice was mixed with something else; she really wanted to be convinced.

“You go in the closet, blindfolded, and we all choose up for who gets to go in with you. And they have seven minutes to do whatever they want with you,” Jubilee explained.

“What do you mean, _all_?” Marie sounded really outraged and Logan hid a smile; her Southern accent always came out when she was surprised.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked.” He was a little surprised himself to hear that coming from Kitty Pryde, to tell the truth. “It’s kinda fun.” _Well. Learn something new every day._

“So what you say, chère?” That insinuating French accent really got on Logan’s nerves. “C’mere. You got the scarf right here…” Logan could picture what was happening in the other room; Remy was probably pulling the scarf free from Marie’s neck, drawing it slowly across her skin… _damn_. “So we just take you in the next room, in the big closet, and you wait.”

Logan heard Marie laugh nervously. “I can’t see, Remy!”

“That the idea, chère. Don’ worry. Remy not going to let you walk into a wall.” Logan waited a minute and then heard the French jerk come back, alone. “All right. How we gon’ choose?”

“We could pick names out of a hat.” Logan had wondered when Drake was going to add anything to this little scenario.

“Or spin the bottle,” Kitty giggled.

“Here. This be the easiest way. Draw for the high card.”

 _No fuckin’ way._ Were they actually going to be dumb enough to let that prick use his own cards? But there were giggles and a scuffling sound, and apparently everyone had fallen in with the suggestion. 

“So what you all have?” Leering red-eyed asshole. 

“Six of hearts,” Jubilee answered. 

“Nine of clubs.” That was Peter Rasputin.

“No good. Jack of diamonds.” Drake sounded nervously triumphant.

He heard a soft flick as Kitty threw in her card. “You all beat me. Three of hearts.”

Remy chuckled. “Sorry, then. Queen of—“

“No way!”

“You cheated!”

“No fair!”

A flurry of furious accusations followed and Logan’s amusement increased. _For chrissakes, what did they expect?_

“Okay, okay.” Remy’s smooth tones rose above the rest. “You don’ trust me? Someone else pick for me, then. You, Kitty. Everyone trust Kitty? She pick for me.”

“All right.” Jubilee acquiesced grudgingly. “Kitty? Pick low.”

There was a scrabbling noise as Kitty apparently shuffled through the cards. “Okay, they’re all mixed up. Annnnd the winner is…” There was a pause. “Shit.”

“Ace of spades.” He heard Remy stand up. “Okay, my friends. See you in seven minutes.”

Logan moved fast, going through the hall to enter the next room through the other door as Remy left. He got there before the Cajun had done more than close the connecting door between the rooms, and Logan noticed he had paused to turn the lock behind him. Remy jerked around in surprise as Logan entered the room. “What—“

Logan crossed his arms and spoke quietly. “I think you got a seven-minute walk to take on the grounds, Frenchy.”

Remy held up his hands. “Hey, we jus’ playin’ a game here, Wolverine. Jus’ havin’ some fun.”

“And I said, take a walk.”

An eyebrow rose over those strange red eyes. “Ah. Like that, eh?” He was holding his cards in one hand and now he tossed one, just up and back into his hand. It sparkled as it turned. “D’accord. Remy maybe could use a little fresh air, I guess.” He sauntered slowly across the room. “You owe me one favor.”

“Just get lost.” Frenchy was enjoying this just a little too much, in Logan’s estimation.

“Hey, Remy may be a thief, but he not a stupid one.” Again the little trick with the card, and Logan was tempted to spit the whole deck on a claw. But he left, and as soon as the door had closed behind him, Logan headed for the closet.

He heard Marie catch her breath as he opened the door. She was pressed back against the back wall of the walk-in closet, her hands clutching at the coats at either side of her. She gave that nervous laugh again. “Who’s there?”

He didn’t answer, just stepped inside the closet and closed the door behind him. There was no light beyond what made its way through the cracks in the doorframe, but it only took his eyes a second to adjust. The coats rustled a little as she shifted uneasily.

“Remy?” He waited. “Bobby? Come on.” Her voice rose a few notes. “*Jubes?*” He saw her reach up towards the scarf that was tied over her eyes and he reached out and caught her wrist in his hand.

“Rules say the blindfold stays on, don’t they?”

“Logan!” It came out in a squeak. “What’re you—“

“Quiet.” He pressed closer to her, pushing her back against the coats. “LeBeau’s a cheat. Can’t believe you were dumb enough to play games with him.”

“It wasn’t _my_ idea.” She sounded shakily indignant. He chuckled.

“Yeah. I heard.” She tried to free her wrist from his grip but he wouldn’t let her; in fact, he got her other hand as well and held her still. “Hey. You decided to play.”

“Yeah, but—“

“You want me to leave?” He had her up against him now, and he could feel her heart speeding up as he spoke into her ear. After a second she shook her head. “You trust me?”

She turned her head and he felt her lips just brush against his neck, above the collar of his shirt. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Let’s see if I got this straight. Seven minutes, I get to do whatever I want. That right?” 

“Uh-huh.” That breathy tone worked all kinds of havoc with his control; always had.

“That sounds like a good game.” Slowly he brought her hands up above her head, shifting both her wrists into one hand so he could shove the coats to either side. He folded her gloved fingers over the bar. “Hands stay there. Don’t let go.” She nodded again, and he let his hands slide down her arms, feeling her muscles tense under his touch. “Shh. Just relax, darlin’.” His hands moved down to brush over her breasts and she let her head fall back with a little gasp. He leaned forward and scraped his teeth ever-so-lightly over that exposed neck as he cupped her breasts more firmly.

He could smell the excitement, the arousal on her, and it gave him the confidence to continue. This hadn’t exactly been in his plans for today, or even necessarily in the foreseeable future. Her crush on him had been obvious from the start, but he wasn’t quite a big enough asshole to have done anything about it. At least, not until she was ready. Which, if that choked little moan she’d just let out was any indication, she was.

And _fuck_ if that Cajun scumbag was getting in ahead of him.

She was wearing one of those tight long-sleeved shirts she favored, and it was a thin, stretchy material, perfect for what he had in mind. He dipped his head lower, letting her feel his teeth and tongue along her collarbone. He pressed her breasts up and together, running his thumbs over her nipples, and then he closed his mouth over one sensitive peak.

“Oh, my god—“ Her hands came down and landed on his shoulders; instantly he let go and seized her wrists again.

“Hey. You don’t follow directions very well.” He’d love to feel those Lycra-clad fingers running over him, really, but he was getting caught up in the game he’d started and he didn’t want to let the rules change. He reached toward the row of coats and found a raincoat with a belt; he jerked it free of its loops and spun her around, raising her hands back to the bar. “Seems like you need a little help that way.”

“God, Logan…” He was paying damned close attention, and he’d have stopped at the first sign of fear from her, but she was arching her body back against him, her breath was coming faster, and…

*Damn.* She was more ready than he’d thought. He grinned to himself. _Let the games begin._ He looped the belt around her wrists and the bar; she could get free if she tried, but he made it tight enough that she could tug against the knots a little without their coming loose.

He had maybe five minutes left of the allotted seven, he figured, but he didn’t think the kids would come looking for her all that quickly if he happened to run over, this game being what it was. He let his hands roam down over her body again, a little rougher now, pulling her even more firmly back against him. He knew she could feel the evidence of his own arousal pressing into her, and she shivered under his touch.

Her bra fastened in the front, and it was simple to snap the catch free with one hand. He eased the garment away and now there was only one layer of fabric between his fingers and her breasts. Her shirt was damp where his mouth had been and he rolled that nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he nuzzled at her neck through the protective curtain of her hair. Marie moaned again and squirmed against him.

 _Christ, she’s incredible._ His senses were singing with the way she smelled, the softness of her body under his hands, the sounds of her breath hitching as he caressed her. It was an effort to restrain himself from dragging her out of this closet and up to his bedroom, but for once in his life, he was going to make sure this was all about her.

Her head came up as his hand found the button at the waistband of her jeans. “Logan! You can’t—“

He stilled his hand, just for a moment. “It’s okay, baby. Just trust me. I’ll be careful.” He felt her swallow and then, after a long moment, she nodded again. “That’s my girl.” He stroked her gently over the jeans before he eased down the zipper and let his fingers slide inside.

 _Aw, darlin’._ She was wearing silk. He could feel her dampness and heat through the thin material and he loved the muted sounds she made as his fingers moved against her. He brought his mouth back down to her neck, nibbling and sucking as much as he dared, because damned if he wanted to lose consciousness at this point. He could feel the barest frisson of the pull of her gift; probably just enough to give her a hit of the pure lust that was running through him, because he could smell her arousal kick up a notch.

He increased the tempo, bringing his other hand up and squeezing one breast. Her head dropped back against his shoulder and he tightened his arms around her; he could feel her letting him take her weight as she gave herself over to his touch, to what he was giving her. “That’s it, darlin’. Just go with it.” She let out a whimper that almost turned his own bones to water, adamantium or no. “Jesus, Marie. You don’t know what that does to me.”

For answer she turned her head, catching the skin of his neck between her teeth, and wasn’t _that_ interesting, no pull as long as she kept her lips away from his skin. He growled with the slight pain of her bite and she gasped, let go, and he felt her shudder from head to toe as her orgasm crashed through her. He kept up the quick, firm motion against her sex until the last tremors had stilled and she was relaxed and heavy in his arms, her breath slowing and steadying.

Reluctantly he stroked her one last time before sliding his hand away and gently easing up the zipper of her jeans, refastening the button. He reached up and tugged free the belt that held her hands, letting it drop to the floor at their feet. She lowered her arms as he took her shoulders and turned her around, fumbling a little to try and pull her bra back into place. Logan reached for the blindfold and pulled it off, then opened the door just a crack, letting in just enough light so he could be sure she could see him.

Yeah, she looked embarrassed. It was pretty damn adorable, the way she was catching her lower lip between her teeth. “Logan—“

“Seven minutes ain’t up yet.” He shook the scarf loose from its folds and stretched it between his hands. “Hold still.” He brought the scarf up to her face and then leaned in to capture her mouth with his. It was erotic as hell, kissing her through that gauzy material, and it seemed incredible that something so thin could keep her power at bay, but it did, and he took full advantage, nudging her lips apart and darting his tongue over and between them, sending as clear a message as he could: _This ain’t just a game._

She was breathing hard again when he finally raised his head, letting the dampened scarf flutter to the floor between them, and stepped back to open the door wider. “You all right?”

One corner of her mouth quivered as she fought back a smile. “Oh, yeah.”

“Good.” He winked at her and started to leave, before her partners in crime came looking for her.

“Logan!”

He turned, halfway to the door. “What?”

“When do I get to do whatever I want with you?” She was in the doorway of the closet, still slightly disheveled and absolutely gorgeous.

“Any time you want. But darlin’?” He arched an eyebrow at her. “I take longer than seven minutes.”

He heard her laugh as he walked away, and he didn’t think it’d be long before she took him up on that invitation.

Definitely, a good game.


End file.
